


These Violent Delights (Have Violent Ends)

by sweetharry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Cute, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Humor, M/M, Pining, Reconciliation, Secret Relationship, rival bands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-22 01:41:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11369916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetharry/pseuds/sweetharry
Summary: Of course, about a week after their disastrous first encounter, the massive twitter feud exploded, dividing their groups; which lead Harry to assume that Louis Tomlinson hated him and only remembers him from one uncomfortable eye-fucking experience in a public toilet. But now, he’s here and Harry forgets about all of that. He forgets the fact that for some god forsaken reason he found Zayn more attractive in pictures, because right now Louis Tomlinson is standing in front of him glowing like the sun, and Harry’s heart beating is out of his chest.rival band au where against all odds louis and harry find themselves falling in love. (feat. Zayn, Niall and Liam, as the Benvolio, Mercutio and Nurse of Louis and Harry's epic shakespeare-worthy love story).





	These Violent Delights (Have Violent Ends)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [secretswekeepxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretswekeepxx/gifts).



Pop music has never been Harry’s favorite. While during his teen years he admits to dabbling in Britney and boy bands, he’s always found himself returning to the music he’d listen to on his mum’s old record player. After months of begging, on Harry’s 13th birthday, she let him cart the old record player up to his bedroom. Harry had sat it up on his desk, and collected his mum’s Fleetwood Macs, her Rolling Stones, her Stevie Wonders; and any other records he could remember liking off the top of his head. And even though he didn’t hate the music his friends listened to, or act as though he was superior to them, he didn’t try to pretend Taylor Hansen in anyway rivaled Elvis. Even now, when there isn’t any oldies left for Harry to dive into, he prefers music that isn’t played on the radio. Which is ironic, as Harry is the lead singer of the pop duo, set to headline Coachella next week.

And yes, Harry’s aversion to popular music, does make a hypocrite, and to some extent, a pretentious asshole, but for Harry, music has always been about the emotional connection he makes with it, and he just feels that no pop singer has ever had the voice or lyrics to make him feel the way music is supposed to make you feel. Harry however, fully understands the hype of popular music singers, especially when they’re as attractive as the artists lined up to play Coachella as well.

“No hooking up at this one H, okay?” Liam said, noticing Harry’s signature ‘I’m daydreaming about dick,’ face. Harry snorts, but Liam continues, his tone growing more serious, “I know it’s unfair, but remember that management wants-”

“They want me to be straight.” Harry says, cutting Liam off. “How could I forget?” Liam sighs, and takes a seat beside Harry. “I hate that they’re asking you to act like someone who isn’t you, and I stand by what I said,” Liam tells him, “We can drop them at any time. Just say the word.” Harry leans his head onto Liam’s shoulder.

“That’s sweet of you Li, but we are not dropping the management who got us Coachella. At least not until after this festival because trust me, a week of trying to keep me celibate, is going to be all you can handle.”

“Thank you Harry.”

“But-” Harry says, sitting up. “I can make no promises of staying celibate when we’re around One Direction.”

Liam grimaces at him. “We hate One Direction, remember?”

“But why?” Harry moans, knowing full well why.

“Because they produce shit music, but are somehow still our biggest competition in the charts; they indirected us on twitter for being pretentious pretty boys, and on top of that they’re just giant assholes.”

Harry frowns. He likes to pretend that they aren’t assholes, so when he sees them at Coachella, he can just bask in their glory. That’s a farfetched dream though, as Liam’s favorite hobby is reminding Harry that they’re the worst.

“If I could have one wish, it would be that those beautiful boys weren’t the scum of the earth.”

“That’s a wish wasted.”

*

Harry really did not think he would be this nervous. Harry doesn’t tend to get nervous very often, so this is not a great experience for him. They’re going on in five minutes, and Harry is in the bathroom stuffing toilet paper under his silk shirt, because he’s about sweat through it. He glances at his pale reflection in the mirror, and wishes he didn’t look as sickly as the mirror shows him he is, but there isn’t much he can do about it.

“Haz,” Liam calls, rapping on the door, “we gotta get out there.”

“Coming.” Harry replies, praying the choke in his voice disappears before he heads onstage.

He hurriedly tosses the paper towel away, and jogs over to the backstage area, where his tech is waiting. The tech slips the bass over Harry’s shoulders and the feeling of his fingers lining up over the strings gives him at least some composure, as the crowd roars in front of them. Harry steps up to look at Liam opposite him, with his guitar in his hand, and that’s all he needs before taking a deep breath and heading onstage.

Harry reaches his microphone and he can’t help but smile out at the sea of people there for him and Liam. He makes a point to scan the crowd, hoping to make everyone feel like he’s looking at them, but in doing so, he makes the biggest mistake of his life, glancing over to the right side of the stage. He knows Liam has started talking by now, but Harry’s eyes have landed on Louis Tomlinson, who is staring right back at him; head cocked, and eyes wide.

Harry freezes in his spot, as it had been two years since he first met Louis Tomlinson, and it had been gone decidedly less than great.

_~_

_“I’m going to throw up.” “You’re not going to throw up.” “The entire One Direction band is in the audience and they’re gorgeous and famous and I am going to throw up.”_

_“If you don’t go out there, they won’t see how sexy you are.” Liam says, trying to coerce Harry out of the handicap stall._

_“If I don’t go out there, I also will not make a fool of myself. Funny how that works isn’t it?”_

_“Harry.”_

_“Why are they even here?” Harry whines._

_“How do they even know who we are?”_

_“I don’t know if you’ve heard, Haz, but we’re pretty good.”_

_“Please Liam, toot your own horn.”_

_“Come on pet, open the door.”_

_“No.”_

_“Fine. Then I’ll go out and play your bass.”_

_“You wouldn’t dare.”_

_“You know I would.”_

_Liam’s voice grows distant, and Harry slumps once again over the porcelain bowl. It’s quiet for a second, but Harry’s wallowing is interrupted by the door opening once again._

_“I swear to fucking god Liam if you try and get me out of here before I throw something up, then I’m going to rip your testicles off.”_

_There’s a pause, and then, “Wow. Glad I’m not Liam.”_

_The high raspy, lilt of someone who is decidedly not Liam, draws Harry’s attention._

_“Jesus christ.” Harry mutters._

_“Sorry about that. My mate is just a pain in the arse who wants me to embarrass myself.”_

_The voice chuckles. “What’s he trying to make you do? Eat a worm or summat?”_

_“Worse. Go out there and try and perform with One Direction watching. I’d make a right fool of myself.”_

_“I’m sure you’d be fine.”_

_“You’d think so, but unfortunately I get real nervous around people I fancy. I’d get all heart eyed and forget all my lyrics. It’s really embarrassing.”_

_The disembodied voice chuckles. “They’re not that attractive, really. They seem like a band of shitbags as well.”_

_Harry’s brows pull down in offense. He stands up and unlocks the stall. “Shitbags? You-” and Harry cuts himself off immediately because he is staring at Louis Tomlinson, zipping up his pants. Dear christ. Heaven help him._

_Louis raises his eyebrows at him, and Harry’s face turns forty shades of red. Harry scratches the back of his head, and laughs sheepishly._

_“Y’know, if I would’ve realized it was you talking, I never would’ve said the stuff about fancying you...or your mates.” Louis shakes his head lightly, a small smile playing on his lips._

_“Shouldn’t you be onstage?” Harry nods quickly and turns on his heels, desperate to erase this uncomfortable encounter from his memory as soon as possible._

_~_

Of course, about a week after their disastrous first encounter, the massive twitter feud exploded, dividing their groups; which lead Harry to assume that Louis Tomlinson hated him and only remembers him from one uncomfortable eye-fucking experience in a public toilet. But now, he’s here and Harry forgets about all of that. He forgets the fact that for some god forsaken reason he found Zayn more attractive in pictures, because right now Louis Tomlinson is standing in front of him glowing like the sun, and Harry’s heart beating is out of his chest.

Somehow, Harry manages to remember he is onstage and pulls his gaze just as Liam finishes his monologue.

“You look beautiful Coachella.” Harry says, his voice raspier than he would’ve hoped. “Can we play some songs for you?”

Harry’s eyes flick over to Louis Tomlinson clapping politely, gaze still as strong as ever, and after gathering that Louis won’t look away anytime soon, Harry resigns himself to only facing forward for the duration of their set. He focuses on the rest of the audience members, who start cheering the second Liam strums the opening chords to their very first single. Harry reminds himself this is one of the biggest shows they’ve ever played, and although he loves boys, he loves Liam and their music a whole lot more. That helps him relax and fall into the performance, putting his whole self on display through their music.

When the final lyrics fall from Harry’s lips, he breathes a sigh of relief, because about 40 minutes ago, Harry didn’t know if he could make it through. He’s unsure what came over him, but as he blows a kiss out to the crowd, he’s proud to say he played a great set, and they were well received. He joins Liam for a bow, then escapes offstage. As soon as they make it back to the dressing room, Liam pulls Harry into a bear hug and manages to squeeze the small amount of air Harry had left after performing. Harry chuckles, and buries his head into Liam’s neck. That rush he feels after just performing in front of a huge crowd with his best friend is enough to knock Louis Tomlinson and his stupid blue eyes out of Harry’s mind.

*

Or not. It’s currently seven in the morning, and Harry is holed up in the bathroom hurriedly trying to figure out when and where One Direction is performing and how he can ditch Liam to get there. It’s not an easy task, but Harry can’t stop thinking about Louis. It’s not even that he’s pretty, which he is, it’s just Harry has this unexplainable magnetic force that is pulling and pushing at him to see him again. Harry’s never felt this immediate attraction to a person just through looking at them, but he’ll be damned if he gives up on it.

“Harry I know you don’t shit this much, what’s with you and hiding out in bathrooms?”

Harry jumps at Liam’s voice and almost drops his phone in the toilet. Thankfully he catches it and stuffs it into his pocket.

“You know nothing about my shitting habits Liam.” is all he manages, before flushing the empty toilet and scooting out of the bathroom, past Liam to avoid further confrontation.

But of course, Liam sits himself down next to Harry.

“Who are we going to see today?” he asks, pulling up the very same list Harry had been scanning moments ago.

“Uhh,” Harry thinks, quickly checking a random band playing at the same time as One Direction.

“I don’t know about you, but I am going to… uh T-The Zoo Brothers.

Liam wrinkles his nose. “But I don’t want to see that.” he moans. “Drake is playing.”

“No one is making you come Li, but they are the best band of the century.” Harry lies.

“I hate you and your hipster bullshit.”

“I hate me too.”

“Can we meet back up for Bon Iver at 7?” “Sounds like a plan.”

Liam is quick to head out to the festival site after that, which gives Harry some amount of time to tjuz his sleepy self into his preferred appearance, which is that of a sex god. After years, Harry had recently chopped off his shaggy mane, and he finally thinks he’s gotten used to his moppy curls being so short. And he knows what to do with it now. He fixes it up, and fishes out his cleanest, best looking outfit, before popping some sunglasses on his head, and heading out.

*

As Harry stands amidst the hoards of teenage girls in the audience for the One Direction concert, he thinks maybe this wasn’t the best idea. He knew Liam didn’t want him here, but he went anyways. He knows he should hate Louis Tomlinson, but he doesn’t. And he hates pop music. Harry wishes he wasn’t such a hypocrite. He can feel eyes on him; people are thinking ‘what is Harry Styles doing here?’ but he does his best to avoid cameras and chatter. He stands closer to the edge; his spot is similar to that of Louis’ at his own concert.

Harry thinks, maybe he just wants some closure on the One Direction feud. Harry, being the eternal optimist he is, likes to see the best in people, and he thinks it’s just some sort of moral intuition that he should actually meet the boys of One Direction before deciding to devote his life to hating them. He at least owes them that chance. That must be the reason for his behavior. That’s at least what he wants to convince himself.

But why would he have come half an hour before they were meant to go on if he just wanted to meet them. Harry is the worst, if you didn’t know.

That half hour was undoubtedly the longest thirty minutes of Harry’s life, and he was sure he aged 400 years before they even announced the five minute warning. The five minutes also take unfairly long, and Harry thinks he’ll die before even catching a second glance at Louis. Which is unfortunate, as Harry had planned his departure to his final resting place to be some point after looking deeply into Louis Tomlinson’s eyes again.

Harry glances down at his phone to see texts from Liam, going on about how Harry is missing the best concert ever performed, but before he can reply, something much more important comes up. And that’s girls screaming, signaling Harry to look up and see them in the flesh once again.

Harry pushes his sunglasses onto his head to get a better look at Louis, whose performance attire is unfortunately a lot less tight and showy than his casual clothing, but that’s a mere criticism in comparison to Louis’ beauty as a whole. He comes out with his lips quirked into a smirk, and he waves out to the crowd before taking his pace up at the keyboard.

By the time their first song ends, Harry has been unashamedly staring at Louis for the better part of ten minutes, and he’s torn between wanting Louis to look at him, to see him in the crowd, while another part of him wants to curl up in the corner, because he feels incredibly vulnerable being stared down by those blue eyes.

In the long run, his confidence engulfs his insecurities, and he straightens up from his natural slouch and makes himself more visible, hoping to catch the eye of the dreamy keyboardist.

*

It’s absolutely hopeless. Harry has tuned out every song; he couldn’t even tell you if Louis sang, because Harry was so intent on getting him to look at him. It’s making him want to tear out his hair how Louis could look in every direction but his.

When all hope seems lost, Harry takes a breath as Louis starts speaking, his voice high and raspy, and very soft. Harry looks back up at him, and finally they lock eyes. Harry can’t help but notice Louis falter the slightest bit on his words before passing the role of speaking onto Niall.

If he didn’t notice him before, Louis was sure looking at him now. The look he was giving him was different than yesterday. The tables had turned. Harry was staring him down, and Louis seemed confused to see him there, his face was turning red, and his hands settled uneasily onto the keys of his piano. Nonetheless, Louis did not tear his eyes away from Harry.

The one downfall of them finally making eye contact, is that immediately Harry wants what he knows he can’t have. He wants _more_. He wants everything Liam, and his management, and the whole damn world won’t allow him to have, and that’s killing him.

YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW HIM, harry’s brain cries out, but he ignores it, and lets his heart thump freely against his chest. Someone taps Harry on the shoulder, making him jump, and he turns around to see a girl, no more than 15, asking for a photo. He complies, and presses a kiss to her cheek before turning back around to see that Louis had shifted his gaze. He was staring intently in another direction, and that was the point where Harry started to wonder, maybe Louis Tomlinson is just a fan of eye contact. Maybe he picks one person to stare at to keep his focus. Maybe Harry is trying to make this out to be a lot more than it is.

Or maybe he’s not. If it is or isn’t couldn’t matter less to Harry, as he makes the executive decision to make his backstage allowance come in handy to get him a conversation with Louis Tomlinson. And hopefully get his eyes out of his head.

*

God, Harry is the most awkward person on the planet. He breaks off from the crowd, and heads to the back, cool as can be, and flashes his artist pass to get by. They let him in hesitantly, as apparently when you’re something of a celebrity everyone paints an image of you, but that’s beside the point. Now that Harry is backstage, he doesn’t know how to approach Louis, so he instead has used his backstage pass to get access to One Direction’s bathroom (as if he needed to hide in a bathroom for a third time on this trip). Harry glances at the dressing room before making his cowardly decision and pushing open the bathroom door, only to be met with Louis Tomlinson himself, tossing a paper towel into the bin. He freezes in front of Harry, and they engage in yet another stare off. After ten seconds, Harry can’t handle it, and his uncomfortableness gets the better of him.

“Oops! Wrong room.” he says, quickly turning on his heels.

“Wait--” Louis’ says, stopping Harry in his tracks. He turns around slowly, and Louis has stepped closer to him, hand still outstretched.

“Hi.” Louis says, his voice soft and sweet.

“Hi.” Harry echoes, a small smile forming on his lips.

“You’re a fan of eye contact, aren’t you?” Louis chuckles, running a hand through his soft fringe. Harry opens his mouth to say something, but finds himself a little too distracted to form a coherent thought.

Finally, he manages: “Seems you are as well.”

Louis shrugs, obviously having a much easier time keeping his cool than Harry is,

“Not usually, just... sometimes.” Silence consumes them once again, and Harry desperately wants to save this conversation.

“I’m Harry, if you don’t remember.” Harry tells him, hoping that somehow his memory was wiped and he forgot the bathroom incident.

“Of course I know who you are.” Louis says, fingering the bottom of his worn white t-shirt. Harry’s ears perk up.

“You do?” 

“You act like you’re not a celebrity.” Harry wrinkles his nose.

“I don’t like that word much. Makes me sound like I’m not a normal person.”

“You’re a little bit more than normal, wouldn’t you say? A blush finds it’s way onto Harry’s cheeks.

“I don’t like to think of myself like that.”

“Attractive, talented, and humble.” Louis muses. “What don’t you have?”

Harry is surprised by this, because is Louis Tomlinson, _flirting_ with him? Either Harry got incredibly hot in two years and Louis Tomlinson is shook by his existence, or Harry really misread that bathroom encounter and he charmed the pants off Louis instead. Before Harry has a chance to answer, his phone starts blaring. Harry quickly pulls his phone out of his pocket and answers, because he knows if he ignores it, Liam will just call again.

“Hello?” Harry answers tentatively, averting his eyes from Louis, who is staring down at his feet.

“Where are you right now?” Liam asks, his tone more rigid than Harry had ever heard before.

“Uh nowhere. Why?”

“Because a little birdy told me you were ogling Louis Tomlinson from the crowd of his show.”

“How did you hear that?”

“So it’s true?”

Harry stays quiet.

“Harry.”

“Okay fine! Yes I was there, sue me.”

“Just get back here. Now.” Harry hangs up, and Louis looks at him with sympathetic eyes.

“I have to go.”

“But--”

“I’m sorry.” And Harry hates himself for denying his feelings and running back to the life everyone wants for him, but he can’t help it. He’s not ready to take that step yet, and he’s okay with that. He just wishes Louis hadn’t looked so sad when he had to go.

*

Liam was upset with him for about a night. Harry had to deal with him moping all throughout Bon Iver, and he had a stern talking to once he got back to the hotel, but now it’s a new day, and Liam is fine. Harry appreciates Liam, he really does, because Harry knows everything he does is good intentioned, but he does tend to blow things out of proportion and baby Harry when it isn’t necessary. That’s something he wishes Liam would work on.

As Harry and Liam performed their set already, they’re not staying for the second weekend, so it’s time for them to head back home. And there’s a part of Harry who wishes they weren’t leaving. A part of him he almost feels like he’s leaving something unfinished there. He feels like he’s taking the wrong path, like there’s this whole other life for him where Liam wasn’t telling him what to do, and he didn’t have to act like he liked girls, and he was just free. Harry loves his life, and he’s so grateful for everything he has, but sometimes, it’s hard to remember what it felt like to be out of the spotlight and just living. That’s feels like a lifetime ago.

Harry tries not to get too into his thoughts, as that’s a habit he’s been trying to break. He piles into the car beside Liam and mindlessly refreshes the apps on his phone. He opens up twitter, and a notification blinks to life just as he loads the page. Harry taps the little “1” and reads _Louis Tomlinson followed you._

Harry immediately shifts his body away from Liam, artfully covering his phone with the sleeve of his hoodie, before following him back. Within the minute, Harry’s DM lights up and he feels that familiar flutter in his chest.

_Where’d you run off to?_

Harry glances at Liam, to make sure he is still dozing in his headphones before responding.

_Back to Liam. In case you didn’t know, he’s not your biggest fan._

_I’m pretty sure my boys aren’t the biggest fan of you either._

_He would kill me if he knew I was talking to you._

_And yet.. You’re doing it anyway. You’re playing a dangerous game, Styles._

_Good thing you’re meeting me halfway, Tomlinson._

_Good thing indeed._

*

“Harry, I have a question for you. Who has two thumbs, a really low phone battery, and keeps ignoring his best friend?”

Harry looks up from his phone screen wearing a guilty grin.

“Is it me?”

“It’s you.”

“I’m sorry Liam!” Harry says, quickly exiting from the game of checkers he had absolutely been crushing Louis in. “Are you lonely? Do you need a cuddle?”

“No, actually. If you weren’t so disconnected, you would know that I actually have someone to cuddle me that isn’t you with your gangly legs and cold hands.”

Harry raises his eyebrows. “Liam.” he says, “Are you trying to tell me you have a girlfriend?”

Liam nods shyly, and Harry grins, pulling him down into a hug.

“Happy for you Li.” Liam seems content after that interaction, and shuffles out of the room, allowing Harry to pull his phone back out and check his DM’s.

_Because you left the checker game, I win by default._

_Not true!_ Harry types. _I had a fair excuse. Liam informed me I was spending more time snuggled up with my phone than with him._

_He hates me even in the form of a phone I see. Did he catch you?_

_Nope. And I doubt he will._

_Got himself a girlfriend now._

_Love is in the air. For everyone but me I suppose._

_Oh come of it, Harry Styles can get anyone he pleases._

_Wish that were true._

_Your modesty will be the death of you._

_Talk to you later Louis._

Harry flips his phone over, and desperately wishes Louis was right. He wishes he could have anyone he pleases, but who he wants is just not an option.

*

Harry and Louis continue their little game of talking over twitter for the next couple of weeks. It’s a nice distraction for Harry from as his life goes wild around him. Following their performance at Coachella, Harry and Liam blew up. They were posing on the covers of magazines and planning a bigger tour; and it got to the point where Harry couldn’t leave the house without someone waiting outside to take his picture. That also led to an increase in meetings with management, which was by far Harry’s least favorite part.

He hates sitting in the cold, empty office, in the uncomfortable chairs talking about things he doesn’t like. He HATES it.

“So Liam, how would you say things are going?” The CEO of their record label asks, his vague question sounding particularly loaded.

“Good! Great, actually. I think me and Haz are taking the world by storm.” Liam grins, which is met by a tight lipped smile from the old man sat opposite them.

“I’m glad you feel that way, because we do as well. You boys are doing great music wise. Your image however, may need tweaking.”

“What do you mean by “tweaking?” Harry interrupts, talking for the first time during the meeting.

“It seems you two have garnered much female attention, and it’s distressing to the fanbase to see both of you in so tight of a bubble.” Liam laughs.

“Are you trying to tell us to get some friends?”

“In the simplest terms, yes Mr. Payne, we are telling you to get some friends.” he says, pointedly.

“And for Harry, we would like your outings with friends to be one on one with females.” “You’re joking.” “We are not suggesting a PR relationship, we would just like some unlabeled easily videographed outings to… get things moving.”

Harry’s mouth forms into a tight line, as he holds his tongue on yet another mode of sexual orientation intervention.

“I’d rather not.” Harry manages in his most polite voice.

“Well we’d hope you reconsider Mr. Styles, after all a band just starting out needs publicity or they go nowhere fast.”

You could cut the amount of passive aggression in that room with a knife.

“How many times would we have to go to these ‘required outings?’”

“Only one or two times a month in the off tour season.”

“That sounds quite manageable, now doesn’t it H?” Liam asks, his eyes pleading with Harry.

“I guess.”

“Then it’s settled.”

Harry was getting a little tired of things getting ‘settled.’

*

_Have you ever done PR?_ Harry sends to Louis, following the meeting from hell.

_What do you mean by PR?_

_I mean like.. a relationship_

_Oh. Can’t say I have. And even if I had, I probably wouldn’t be allowed to tell you, Styles._

_I guess you’re right._

_Do you have to do that?_

_Kind of. My management is a bunch of wankers and they want me to be seen with more women. And nothing against women, love them, but I just don’t like what they’re trying to do. I just want to be me y’know?_

_I understand. And that’s not fair to you. Sorry you have to do that._

_It’s fine. I’ll survive._

_You better. Or else my mates will have to find new rivals, and that’d be an excruciating process._

_So you’ll keep me alive purely for selfish reasons? Did you expect any less?_

_Good night Louis. x_

_Before you go--_ Louis sends, his message stopping Harry as he waits for the rest of the sentence.

_Twitter isn’t my favorite mode of conversation, and unless this blood feud between our bands is so deep they check our phones, I think it’s safe for us to text each other._

Harry bites his lip. _Asking for my number? That’s a little forward of you._

_Is that a no?_

_Course not. 555-55555._

_Text me._

_Good night Harry_

*

Little did Harry know, putting Louis’ number in the phone rivaled cracking open Pandora’s box in the realm of things that probably shouldn’t have been done. Now, Harry is on his phone day and night, and the more he texts, not only do more feelings arise, but more lies have to be told to Liam. The long list of who Harry says he’s texting is too long, and the short list usually includes someone like Oprah just to amuse himself, Rita, Nick, his mum, and Gemma. The most true one he gave Liam was that he was texting Gemma, because he usually was. She’s the only person he’s told about his feelings for Louis. She’s supportive, as he imagined she would be, and she makes sure to remind him that he cannot let someone who seems interested in him get away, as this is a once in a lifetime chance. That earns her a smack on the arm.

He’s seen Louis once in person since that day at Coachella, and it was a fleeting conversation in an LA juice bar. Harry’s waiting in line, and behind him he hears;

“Why am I not surprised to see you here?” Harry whips around and can’t help the grin forming on his face.

“What are you doing here Tomlinson?” Harry teases, “This seems much more my scene than yours.”

“Was just in the neighborhood. Heard this was where I could meet Harry Styles and take a picture with him.”

As if on cue, a fan shuffles into the line asking Harry for a picture. It was sort of unfortunate, as after that encounter, both of them are sort of brought back to reality. They’re in public, and they shouldn’t be seen being this buddy buddy with each other. Harry shys away from further intimate interactions with Louis, as he thinks they’re dangerously close to crossing over that more than friends border. They’ve always been more than friends he thinks, and all Harry wants to do is kiss Louis. He wishes he could kiss Louis instead of whatever random girl they decide to set him up with for PR.

*

In the weeks following the official contraction of Harry’s outings with women, Harry is frustrated. Harry doesn’t get mad, so his frustrated is about anyone else’s roof exploding mad. All he really wants to do is get away from it all, but as it is the day of the Grammy’s Harry cannot dive into the solitude he would prefer at a time like this. Him and Liam aren’t up for anything obviously, and neither is One Direction, which Harry has learned from Louis, but all bands go, as this is music’s night.

Along with the longest longest award show Harry has ever experienced, which he enjoys, Harry also manages to get roped into going to Adele’s after party, which him and Liam only make it into as Adele finds them cute and appreciates every Brit she meets in the states. Harry enjoys Adele a great deal, and the party is a cool scene, but he just isn’t up for it. Harry isn’t a gloomy guy, but with PR and all he’s been so moody lately. He wishes it would stop.

He resigns himself to wallowing on the couch and people watching; seeing if he can catch any celebrities as they go by. He does this for about half an hour, and then, out of the corner of his eye, he spots him. Harry sees Louis, glowing, and laughing with a drink in his hand, and Harry’s mood lifts instantly. Louis is here. And he looks so happy, and inviting, in his cuffed suit pants.

Harry doesn’t want to bother him, or worse let Liam seem him ‘fraternizing with the enemy,’ so Harry just leans onto the arm of the couch and kicks his legs up to gaze at Louis deep in conversation. He throws his head back and laughs once again, and Harry’s heart flutters a little more. Louis glances around, and they lock eyes for a split second. Harry gives him a lazy smile, and Louis turns back to the woman. He leans in and says something before excusing himself from the conversation and walking over to Harry. Harry sits up, and ruffles his hair as Louis stops in front of him, arms crossed.

“Are you following me Styles?” Louis says, teasingly.

“Damn. You weren’t supposed to notice.”

“You’re not exactly inconspicuous. I would go as far to say, you’re pretty hard to ignore.”

 

“Where are you staying?” Harry asks, hoping the darker party setting hides his blush. 

“My house.” Louis chuckles.

 

“Oh. Our management wanted our first Grammy’s to be a big thing or something so they got us a hotel. Ritz. Pretty fancy stuff.”

“Moving up in the world, aren’t we now?”

“Yeah. Move over Beatles. There’s new British men who can sing.”

“Next you’ll be coming for my band.”

“Can I get you a drink?” Harry asks, letting his arm rest on the back of the couch.

“I don’t know, can you?” Louis responds cheekily.

“I believe I can.”

“Well then, I won’t stop you.”

Harry heads to the bar for a Manhattan, assuming Louis will enjoy that. He pays and returns to Louis, now sat on the arm of the couch scrolling through his phone. Harry taps Louis on the thigh and hands him the drink, before settling in beside him.

“I like your suit.” Harry says, hand brushing over the material covering Louis’ leg, and Louis takes a sip of his drink.

“Free drinks, compliments, are you trying to court me Harry?”

“Is it working?”

 

Louis snorts. “Hardly.”

 

“Maybe a dance would change your mind?”

Louis’ demeanor changes immediately. His face falls, and his drink becomes 10x more interesting to him. 

“I don’t think that is a good idea.”

 

“Why not? It’s a party, I think you’re meant to dance.”

“It’s not that, it’s just-”

“Are you a shit dancer? Because so am I, I don’t care.”

“No, I just-”

“Come on Louis.”

 

“I said no.” Louis snaps, and Harry is taken aback by his sudden harshness. “So drop it.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you, I just wanted to-”

“It doesn’t matter what you wanted to do, it shouldn’t happen.” Louis says, not looking back at Harry. “Whatever you think ‘this’ is, it isn’t that. Okay?”

“Okay.” Harry says weakly, not sure what to do with himself.

“I doubt we should be talking anyways.”

And without another word, Louis stands up, leaving Harry utterly heartbroken.

He texts Liam he’s heading to the hotel, and makes a quick exit from the party, as he suddenly feels incredibly ill. He knows he shouldn’t have assumed Louis was interested. He’s cocky and charming and confident, and the way he acts and dresses should never equate to a sexuality, and Harry is ashamed of himself for stereotyping Louis like that. The worst part of it is, is that Harry also lost a potential friend. Louis was kind to Harry, and knew a lot about the industry Harry was dying to learn about, and he threw it away with a stupid drink and a stupid dance. 

In a way, Harry saw this coming, he thinks, as he makes his way into the uber. There was a divide between him and Louis from the start, in every possible way. Harry knows it’s one of his best qualities, but sometimes Harry really needs to stop following his heart and ignoring what his head is telling him. It’s a sweet relief when Harry enters his single hotel room and sheds himself of his clothes and the pain of the day. He flops onto the big bed, and curls up against the soft duvet cover. He reaches for his pants and pulls his phone out of his pocket, to find some ambience music to lull him to relaxation. He opts for HAIM, and lets that fill the stale air of his room. 

He lies in bed, staring up at the ceiling for what seems like hours, and is only disturbed by something that sounds like light taps on the door leading out to his balcony. He assumes birds or some other menial creature is outside, but the thought is dashed as he hears footsteps. His next thought is fans or paparazzi, and neither one of those options inclines Harry to get out of bed, so he ignores it. Until, his phone starts buzzing, and Louis Tomlinson’s number lights up his screen.

“For god’s sake, can you just open the door?”

Harry sits up, half convinced he is having a hallucination because there is no way Louis Tomlinson is calling him on the phone and standing outside his window. 

Harry hangs up and stumbles out of bed, before making his way through the dark room, not bothering to put on any sort of clothing before pushing open his doors and stepping out onto the balcony.

“Finally.” 

Harry steps forward and looks over the balcony to see Louis standing there, hair falling in front of his eyes, and his suit coat balled up under his arm. 

“I’ve been tossing rocks at your bloody window for twenty minutes!”

“Sorry,” Harry says, rubbing his eyes. “I didn’t expect it to be, well, to be you.”

Louis sighs, and rubs at his temples.

“Yeah I wanted to talk about what happened at the party.”

“You don’t have to do this.” Harry says, preventing Louis from going any further with the conversation. “I assumed something I shouldn’t have and I made a mistake.”

“Harry can you just listen to me.”

“No, I get it! It’s nice for you to apologize but it’s okay, I’m really fine. It was a little humiliating in the moment but I’m over it now.”

“Harry you’re not listening.” Louis says, looking up at him, desperately trying to get Harry to not walk off that balcony.

“I’m listening Louis, but you’re not really saying anything.” Harry points out, ruffling his hair. 

“I like you Harry.” Louis says, looking back up at Harry.

“And?”

“And what?” Louis asks. 

“And..? You like me? You think I’m a nice person?”

 

“Harry.” Louis says, sounding exasperated. “I feel like I’m being blunt.”

Harry stares down at him and Louis is looking so vulnerable in front of hi. and he can’t help but think Louis is opening up to him. 

“And I feel like I hear what you’re saying, but you have to admit this is a bit confusing for me after that fun conversation we had at Adele’s.”

 

“Yeah I know, I just-” he starts. “I thought it would be safer.”

Harry stays quiet.

“Everything is just so complicated, Harry. We’re famous for the feud we’re in, your management is trying to straightify you, and I’m conflicted on everything I’m doing and everyone I’m interested in and I don’t want to lead you on if this isn’t a good choice you know?”

He pauses. 

“But?” Harry asks, stepping closer to rest his hands on the edge of the balcony. 

“But…” he says, before repeating himself. “I like you Harry. You’re pretty and charming and good at checkers and I relate to you a lot; and I don’t know, I just like you.”

Harry’s lips quirk into a smile, as Louis’ words ring in his ears. 

“Do you want to come up?” he asks, and a smile breaks onto Louis’ face. “Room 218.”

“Please.”

Harry heads inside and pulls some pants and a shirt, feeling that would be more appropriate for the situation at hand, and lets his heart pound against his chest, because Louis likes him. There was about two hours where Harry felt like Louis Tomlinson had shit on him, and now he’s knocking at his door. Harry opens the door and Louis is standing there, his hands shoved into his suit pockets and he gives Harry the softest smile. Harry steps to the side and ushers Louis in, he gratefully accepts and steps over the threshold. 

“You put on clothes.” Louis comments, his voice soft and raspy. 

“Yeah.” Harry chuckles, “thought it would be more appropriate.”

Louis laughs as well, and glances at the floor. 

“You can sit down you know.” Harry says, heading over to his bed and taking a seat. He kicks his feet up and sits cross legged on the bed.

Louis hesitates for a second, but then joins Harry, taking a seat across from him and leaning onto the headboard.

“So…” Harry says, studying Louis sitting across from him. 

“So.” Louis says again, 

“You like me.” Harry says, a small smile playing on his lips. 

Louis rolls his eyes but it holds no malice.

“Yeah I do.”

“I've had a crush on you since I saw you at Coachella.” Harry admits. 

“Yeah?” Louis asks. 

“Yeah.” Harry replies. 

“Glad my big mouth didn’t drive you away.”

“Your big mouth makes me like you even more.” Harry tells him, reaching out to run a hand down his arm. “Only thing that could drive me away from you is your band members.”

Louis frowns. “Can we not talk about them?”

Harry nods. “Course. We can talk about anything you like. Dolphins, Cacti, Your favorite Meg Ryan movie, I’m ready for all types of conversations.”

Louis’ face lights up once again. “That you are Styles.”

“So, what’ll it be Tomlinson?” Harry asks, “I’d like to put it out there that I do a mean Meg Ryan Impression.”

“Although I’m dying to see that,” Louis says, catching Harry’s hand, “Before you perform the entirety of Sleepless in Seattle, I was wondering if you would let me kiss you.”

Harry’s heart catches in his throat. He opens his mouth, and no words come out, so Harry resigns himself to a rather aggressive nod before leaning in to Louis. Louis slips his free hand up the side of Harry’s cheek and grips his hair before pulling Harry’s lips to meet his own. 

As it has been for the past weeks, Harry expects his mind to run a hundred miles a minute when Louis kisses him, but instead, everything fades away. His mind doesn’t wander, the world around them becomes blurry, and all Harry can really feel is the need to kiss him back. After about ten or so seconds, Louis pulls back just enough to look Harry in the eyes.

“Wow.” Harry breathes, his green eyes locked on Louis’ blue ones.

“God, you’re a good kisser.” Louis blurts out, causing Harry to chuckle. 

They’re silent for a second, and then Harry asks:

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Harry asks. “And not at Coachella, before that.”

Louis nods slowly. “I do.” he says. 

“How do you remember it? I’m curious.”

Louis leaned back against the pillows on Harry’s bed and sighed. “Well. You were about to be sick in the toilet, and I was outside and you told me you fancied me.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much how it went.” Harry chuckled. “Y’know, I thought that made you hate me. I thought you were uncomfortable because you weren’t gay.”

Louis stiffens a bit. “M’ not gay. At least I don’t think.” Louis says truthfully. “Think I’m bisexual.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

Louis cuts him off his a sweet peck. “It’s okay.”

Harry scoots next to Louis and leans his head onto his shoulder.

“So you’re sure the bathroom thing wasn’t the cause of the almost instantaneous grudge between our bands?”

 

“Certainly not. You were much too cute.”

Louis slips his hand into Harry’s and sighs contentedly. 

Seconds later a loud knock on the door and the incoherent ramblings of intoxicated Liam shake them both out of their fluffy love trance. 

“Oh fuckin hell.” Harry whisper-shouts. “He can’t see you here.”

“Harry.” Liam slurs, “let me in, I lost my key.”

 

“Um uhhhh get in the closet.”

“Oh that’s really funny Harry.”

“I’m serious!!” Harry says, picking up his tiny crush and shoving him into the closet. 

“HARRRYYYY.”

Harry mouths sorry again as he shuts the door and heads over to let Liam in.

“Babe.” Harry says flatly. “You’re a right mess.”

“You left the party.” Liam says, completely ignoring Harry’s comment and flopping onto Harry’s bed. 

He couldn’t have come at a more inconvenient time, Harry thinks. 

 

“You smell awful Li.” Harry says, sitting beside him, and stroking his hair. 

“Yeah I do.” He laughs. “Like a wee piggy.”

“How bout I run you a bath, and I’ll find your key, because I know it’s in your pockets somewhere.”

“Yes.” Liam sighs. “I love you Haz.”

Harry rolls his eyes, but presses a kiss to his cheek and runs the bath. Finally he gets Liam into the bath, and shuts the door, finally opening the closet door. Louis flings his arms around Harry and steps out. 

“I almost died in there.” He whispers. “So small. Limited Oxygen, y’know. This is all a plot to kill me off isn’t it?”

“Caught me.”

Louis smiles, and steps back from Harry. “I should probably go then, shouldn’t I?”

Harry nods. “If you’re not keen on staying in the closet for another half an hour, I think that’s the only option.”

“I’ll call you.” Louis says firmly, before placing a kiss on Harry’s lips. Harry reciprocates, and gives Louis a warm smile. 

“I’ll be waiting.”

As he lets Louis out, it’s the first time that night Harry had to think about what this will be like outside of this hotel room. There’s so many questions unanswered. How will this work? Are they a couple now? Harry just isn’t sure; but he does know that Louis likes him. And for right now, that is enough for him.

*  
Harry had been trying aggressively to ignore the rest of the world as he explored his new relationship-type thing he has with Louis, but it comes to a head when he has his first PR type date. It’s with Rita, so thank god it’s someone he knows and likes, but even though Louis knows it’s completely fake, Harry can’t help feeling it is betraying Louis. Him and Louis aren’t even a real official thing, and this just feels off. 

After their first night, everything was so great. They would skip lunches and meet in secret wherever they could, and it would be fun and exciting and dangerous. Each time Louis kissed him he savored it. It felt like they were enemy spies who had accidentally fallen in love. It felt like his very own romantic comedy had finally blossomed. But it wasn’t all sunshine and roses. Following the initial outing, Harry couldn’t help but feel like Louis was holding back from him. Maybe not consciously, but it seemed like he had things he felt like he couldn’t tell Harry. Their relationship is new and all, but Harry just wants Louis to trust him.

“I just-” Harry says one day, holed up with Louis in his apartment, “I want you to know you can trust me L.” 

Louis looks up at him. “I do trust you, H.”

“And I want you to know you can tell me anything.”

That’s when Louis averts his eyes. “I wish I could. But, some things I got to keep to myself.”

Besides, Louis’ trust issues, which Harry understands and accepts, their relationship is perfect. They continue dating in secret for two months before, out of the blue, Louis says, 

“Harry. I can’t see you anymore.”

Harry’s face falls immediately. “What?’

Louis winces at Harry’s expression, as if breaking Harry’s heart is hurting him.

“I said I can’t see you anymore.”

“Why not?”

 

He pinches the bridge of his nose and lets his eyes flutter closed before saying;

“There’s someone else.”

That makes Harry freeze. Honestly, that was the last thing on Harry’s mind. He would have thought life threatening illness or radioactive spider bite before Louis finding someone else, but before he can press, Louis continues.

“I want you to know that this isn’t happening because I don’t like you because I like you so so much. And I sincerely wish I didn’t have to end this.”

“You don’t!” Harry protests. His feelings for Louis culminating in his attempt to get him to stay. “I really care about you Louis and I thought things were going well with us.”

“They were!” Louis says, but no matter how adamant he was in trying to explain himself, Harry was drowning it out. He caught a couple of things like “management,” and “never in the cards for us anyways,” and that was enough for him to give Louis a weak, “Okay. See you around then I guess.” 

Louis looks at him with a pained expression before turning around and walking out.

Wow. Harry thought, as he watched him go. Someone out there in the universe really does not want Harry to be happy. 

 

*  
Louis Tomlinson’s mystery girl revealed

Leggy blonde on Louis Tomlinson’s arm

Tomlinson call’s girlfriend his ‘biggest inspiration and best friend’

“I’m in love,” says Tomlinson

Every headline is another stab in Harry’s chest, but he can’t stop himself from reading them. He’s been locked up in his room all day with tears brimming his eyes and his blanket pulled tightly around his shoulders. He doesn’t think he’s as sad as it is coming off, but he is definitely confused and hurt

By now, Liam has gotten suspicious, but it isn’t like Harry cares. He just keeps replaying that night with Louis over and over in his head. “Whatever you hear, it isn’t me.”

This cryptic message was seemingly to do with this news that has just broke, but it really doesn’t make Harry’s heart any less heavy. Louis said a lot of things. A lot about how they wouldn’t be able to see each other or talk to each other, but it wouldn’t be bad. Like they would just go back to their lives before this summer, but Louis doesn’t understand that now Harry knows what it is like to have Louis in his life, he knows how shitty it is to live without him. 

The next time they see each other is.. Underwhelming to say the least. Louis doesn’t have the blonde with him, thank god, but he holds up his end of the speech he gave Harry and completely ghosts him. Harry watches him for any kind of sign, but as expected, Louis looks right through him. They walk past each other, no words exchanged and Harry resigns himself to the fact that this is what it’s going to be like with them now, Harry just hopes he never has to be put in a situation where they would be in close proximity, because that would be ten different levels of uncomfortable.

*

Harry spoke too soon, because after about the tenth time of seeing Louis around various award shows and sometimes even on the streets of LA, they are both finally made to come to terms with the fact that they do not know how to act like civilised people after a breakup. After many successful award show maneuvers that Harry had devised to keep him from ever running into Louis, He knew it was going too well for him, and sooner or later they would have to face each other. He just wishes it didn’t happen as painfully as right now, where on the red carpet, Harry has just run straight into Louis, knocking their heads together in the process.

“Christ, I’m sorry.” Harry says, trying to gain his footing as soon as possible so he could leave this uncomfy situation. 

“It’s fine, H.” 

Both Harry and Louis are shocked to hear that come out of Louis’ mouth, and it rings in Harry’s ears. They shuffle apart uncomfortably and Harry continues on, breathing for the first time since the encounter occurred as for two seconds, Harry’s body was pressed up against Louis’ as it had been only a couple months ago. 

Harry feels his face turning as red as the carpet as he tries to avoid paparazzi and find Liam, who has been M.I.A since him and Cheryl decided to slip into a bathroom together. Disgusting. 

Quite often, Harry does find himself thinking how it is to be Liaml; being able to be open with his feelings and his sexuality to the public, but he knows Liam pays that price as well. In return for that freedom, as opposed to Harry, Liam’s entire life is on display at all times. Neither of them have it as peachy as they would like, he realizes. He also realizes that it will probably be awhile till the two of them return, so rather than sitting down by himself, he heads to the coat check to put away his wallet and keys and coat and whatnot. Harry makes his way through the crowds, only stopping to speak to Ronnie Wood and Grimmy, as they’re his good friends.

“How’s dating Rita?” Nick teases, poking Harry’s sides. “She’s not usually your type.”

“You love this don’t you?” Harry chuckles. “But aren’t you made they picked her over you?”

“You know as well as I do, I’m furious.”

Harry laughs and gives him a pat on the back before getting back on track. When Harry reaches the coatroom, he is amused to find absolutely no one there. He leans forward over the counter and gives a little whistle, but no life form arises. Harry glances around, and takes it upon himself to jump over the door and tag his own coat. He rustles through a couple of drawers and tags his coat and belongings, before heading into the depths of the Billboard Awards coat check. He finds a place to hang his own coat, and then, curiosity gets the better of him, and he starts snooping through everyone else’s belongings.

Not in a creepy way of course, and it’s not like he’s planning on stealing, it’s just that Harry is unconditionally intrigued by what kind of gum Rihanna chews and which pocket LMFAO puts his lighter in. It’s quite funny actually. He saw more flasks than he expected, and it was downright odd seeing what Adam Levine was hiding. Halfway through the purses, Harry hears a muffled voice behind him and someone opening the door, so without any other idea what to do, Harry turns around with Katy Perry’s bag over his shoulder and puts his hands in the air; ready to be arrested. 

And of course of course, the person turned out to be so much worse than a coat checker. Instead of the other bad ways this meeting could of gone, Louis just bursts out laughing.

“What the hell are you doing?” he cries, doubling over with laughter. 

“Checking the coats?” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Louis says, wiping tears from his eyes. “I can see the cover story now, Harry Styles down and out, forced to scrounge through celebrity jacket pockets for change.”

“You know we fell on hard times, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Wow.” Louis says, calming down. “I haven’t laughed like that in awhile.”

Louis steps to the side and hangs his coat up on the empty hanger. 

Harry expects him to just leave, but he doesn’t.

Harry clears his throat and says without hesitation; “It’s good to see you Louis. I’ve missed you.”

Louis nods slowly. “I’ve missed you too Harry.”

Harry’s heart melts. To some extent Harry feels played by Louis, who keeps him on this string after breaking his heart, but Harry can’t find the anger in the world to be bothered by it. He also can’t find the sense in his brain to stop himself from walking up to Louis, and pulling him into a kiss.

Electricity strikes through his body, and rather than pull away, Louis grips Harry’s waist even tighter. Harry doesn’t know how it happened, they went from virtual enemies to passionately making out in a coat closet. Louis backs up against the wall behind him and lets Harry devour him. And he can’t stop himself from sliding his hands down Louis’ waist. Harry disconnects their lips only to attach them to Louis’ neck to which Louis replies, “No hickeys.”

Harry respects that and merely trails his lips and tongue up the skin, giving Louis chills.

“H, wait.” he breathes, trying to wean Harry off his neck. “I can’t do this-”

“Why not?” Harry says, his emotions raising his voice exponentially. 

“Without apologizing.” Louis finishes, and Harry’s face softens. 

“I had to break up with you.” he says, voice still raspy from their little steamy moment. “The girl- she’s PR. I couldn’t tell you.” 

The anvil that had been sitting in Harry’s chest finally lifted itself. 

“I never stopped caring about you. Believe me.”

Harry connects their lips again, and let’s his hands wander down to grope at Louis’ ass, which earns him a little moan, that he had misses so dearly. Their moment is cut short once again when they hear voices nearing. The break apart, and fix their clothes up, so no evidence of this event could be found. Louis presses a last kiss to Harry’s cheek, and taps his phone before making the move to leave.

Louis heads out first, to avoid any publicity, and Harry grabs a coat check tag and stuffs it in his pocket, as a little memento of sorts. A minute later, when he assumes it safe, Harry steps out, and is immediately, wrenched to the side by Liam, who looks angrier than Harry had ever seen him. 

Harry’s eyes bug out of his head, and Liam’s death grip remains on his arm as he pulls him down the hallway. 

“Liam I don’t know how much you heard but-”

“I heard quite enough Harry.”

And Liam doesn’t stop pulling him until they are out of the building and standing in the parking lot.

“What are you thinking Haz?” he asks, his eyes big and brown like a puppy’s. “Seeing Louis Tomlinson, who we hate, who not to mention has a steady girlfriend and you decide to sneak around in public?”

“Liam it’s not like that at all.” Harry pleads. “I’m sorry you found out like this, but I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“This isn’t good. This isn’t good at all.” Liam says, finally dropping Harry’s arm and pacing back and forth.

“Liam it’s not that big of a deal.” Harry says, trying to reason with his best friend, who is obviously in the middle of a quarter life crisis. “It’s not like we were going to tell anyone.”

“That isn’t the point.” Liam says, stiffly, staring back at Harry. “Out of all the people in the entire world you had to choose to mess around with, you pick him. He’s never going to treat you right, and going around sleeping with Louis Tomlinson is irresponsible, disrespectful, and just plain stupid.”

“That’s not fair.” Harry says coldly. “And I’m not just sleeping around with him.” 

“Making out in a coat check? That’s what it looks like to me.”

“You don’t get it”

“What is there to get?’

Liam starts on another rant, and Harry feels anger boiling inside him. He listens to Liam go off as long as he can, until he just yells; “I’M IN LOVE WITH HIM.”

Liam’s jaw drops a little and Harry is almost as taken aback. He really did not expect those words to come out of his mouth. 

“You love him?” Liam asks in a hushed tone. 

Harry bites down on his bottom lip hard, and nods.

Liam sighs and rubs his temples. “How long has this been going on?”

Harry glances around to see if the lot is still vacant, which it is, and tells Liam, “Since Coachella.”’

Liam screws his eyes shut, and Harry can see that Liam is trying his best to wrap his head around this and accept it; which he appreciates greatly. 

“You’re sure about this?”

“Very sure.”

He pauses for a second, and then sighs once again. “Then who am I to stop you?”

Tears prick at Harry’s eyes, as Liam’s gaze on him finally softens, and Harry throws his arms around Liam and tucks his head into the crook of Liam’s neck. Liam slowly wraps his arms around Harry, and Harry really can’t think of any other way to thank Liam, so he just pulls him tighter.

“I don’t know how keen you are on going back in there,” Liam says, “but I think Cheryl and I are just going to head home.”

Harry takes approximately one second to decide to go home with Liam and just get back to his apartment.

Once they call the driver, and Liam gets Cheryl, Harry takes up the entire backseat and spends the ride home thinking about what he had just told Liam. 

He said out loud, that he loves Louis. Honestly, Harry hadn’t given much thought to that particular L-word in a long time, and even now, Harry’s not sure if that was a heat of the moment thing to convince Liam to let this go on, or he really felt it.

 

He isn’t going to say anything to Louis, not until he figures his thoughts out, at least. He feels like he’s jumping the gun on this one, and Harry has a long history of thinking with his heart over his head; and his heart is only telling him one thing. That’s he’s infatuated with Louis. 

Louis is just so… intoxicating to him. He doesn’t know what it is about him, but Harry cannot help himself around Louis. He acts like an idiot. Once back at the hotel, Harry texts Louis, letting him know that he had to leave, and that he really needs to call him later.

Seconds later, Louis responds.

Everything alright? x

Harry smiles at his phone.

Everythings fine, just gotta talk. 

You’re making me nervous, love.

I assure you it’s fine. Now enjoy your evening. Call me tomorrow.

I will.

*  
Harry sits, jiggling his leg under the breakfast table, eagerly awaiting Louis’ call. Harry’s been glued to his phone all morning, checking every five minutes to see a text or a DM, or anything. Harry’s probably a little bit pathetic, but it isn’t like he’s pining into nothing. There is a beautiful boy at the end of the line, who likes him back.

The phone rings, and Harry jumps up from his bed to grab the phone. He reads Louis’ name, and takes a deep breath and allows two rings to pass before answering. 

“So,” Louis’s begins, “You’ve had me worried all night, you wanker.”

Harry laughs softly. “Sorry.”

“Why did you leave?”

Harry lays back on his bed and tucks the phone in the crook of his neck.

“Our little reconciliation in the coat check did not go completely unseen.”

Louis’ end goes silent before saying, “Someone saw us?”

“Yes.” Harry says, quick to appease Louis. “But it was only Liam.”

“How did he react?”

“He was mad, really mad actually.” Harry says, “but I talked him down.”

“He’s okay with it?” Louis asks, obviously surprised.

“Yeah. Liam’s a really good guy, and he won’t tell.”

“Wow.” Louis replies. “I’m sorry to say, love, I doubt my mates would be as accepting. Not really the poster boys for flexibility and open minded thinking.”

“That’s alright.” Harry assures, curling himself under his blanket. “As long as they don’t keep me from seeing you.”

“Ain’t no mountain high enough.”

“When can I see you again?” Harry asks, “Could you tear yourself away from your popstar life to make an incognito journey to my apartment so I can make you dinner?”

“Mmm.” Louis hums, “I think that can be arranged.”

“Tonight?” 

“It’s a date.”

*

For being the upcoming star he is, Harry’s apartment is pretty small; but he prefers it as much. His apartment is the closest thing you can get to the inside of a genie’s lamp in Los Angeles. It’s very Harry. He’s got drapey fabric over the walls and the windows, hords of plants, incense and candles, and a big kitchen. He’s been vying for a cat for the past year and a half, but his landlord always insists, that if Harry wants a cat he can put in his resignation. Harry really really likes his apartment, and he’s excited for Louis to visit. Harry spends his day, spiffing up the apartment; fluffing pillows, making his big comfy bed, and wiping up the kitchen grease. Harry finds himself searching through old recipe boxes and the worldwide web to find something absolutely decadent to make for Louis but when Harry really thinks about it, grandiose meals and wines don’t really seem to be Louis’ thing. Louis’ thing seems to be Harry, and maybe the kind of meal a mum would make. While mulling over recipes in his head, Harry thinks this is the first time he’s felt comfortable around Louis. Not that Louis was strange or anything, just that he was a little intimidating to him. His insecurity and jitteryness is exceptionally out of character for the smooth talking slow moving stud he is, and he’s glad his confidence has resurfaced. He was getting very tired if that old nervous schoolboy act. It wasn’t him. Harry whisks himself away to the kitchen and slips on that old apron he’s missed so much to get started cooking.

*

Louis arrives around 7:30, and is welcomed by sweet scents wafting from Harry’s apartment. He knocks tentatively, glancing around for any watchers, but his paranoia is gone immediately when Harry opens the door and whisks him inside. 

“Jesus it smells amazing.” Louis says, looking up at Harry, whose hands are still gripping Louis’ arms.

Without hesitancy, Harry leans down and kisses Louis gently, before giving him a smile. “Hope you like it.”

Harry steps back from him, and tosses his apron off, before allowing Louis farther into his apartment. Louis steps out of his shoes, and heads past Harry to check out all the rooms. He glances in the kitchen, but sets his heart on finding Harry’s bedroom. He walks in, and Harry trails behind, watching Louis look around. Louis reaches over to wipe the dust off Harry’s old record machine.

“How long has it been since you’ve used this?”

Harry clears his throat. “A while. I’ve been away from home too long.”

Louis opens it up, and sets the needle on the disc.

“What was the last thing you were listening to?”

Before Harry can remember, ‘Endless Love,’ reveals itself as Harry’s last choice.

“Do you want to be Lionel or Diana?” Harry asks, a cheesy grin on his face.

“What?”

“If you don’t know all the words, I don’t think we can date.”

“My love,” Louis sings as Lionel begins, a teasing grin on his face. “There’s only you in my life.”

Harry is entranced by Louis’ voice, not really hearing it before now. It’s soft and raspy, like his speaking voice, but there is so much more there. More emotions. As Harry’s part begins, he lifts one of Louis’ arms to his shoulder, and the other into his hand, He sets a hand on Louis waist, and twirls him around, making Louis laugh. Then the song hits the apex of their parts, the harmony intertwining and Louis leans in to kiss Harry, only to be stopped by Harry shoving his hand in between them.

“You’ve committed, Tomlinson!” he says, quickly before singing again, “You have to finish this song.”

Harry whirls Louis around and they finish singing. The second the note ends, Louis’ lips are on Harry’s. Harry drops Louis’ hand and curls it around his waist. 

“You are needy Louis Tomlinson.” Harry says, in between Louis’ lips pressing against his own. 

“Can’t help it.” Louis mumbles.

Harry pulls back, and runs a hand through Louis’ hair. 

“You know I love this, but also.. Dinner will get cold.”

Louis’ face softens, and he presses a kiss to harry’s nose. 

“Then let’s go have dinner.”

Harry all but skips into the dining room where he had, quite chivalrously, set out a beautiful table with grilled cheese and and french fries; tiny kitschy salt and pepper shakers, and candles because Harry is incredibly cute.

“Harry Styles you are not real.”

Harry hides his grin by turning to the counter to grab the wine. 

The dinner goes great. This is the first time Harry feels like they’re isn’t any hiding. Even though he knows that’s not true, now that Liam knows, and Louis is at his house, he feels like it’s normal. 

It’s not often Harry feels normal on account of his hectic lifestyle, but right now he feels it and he's savoring it. Savoring the feeling and the image of Louis smiling like the sun across from him. They finish dinner and head over to the couch. They eat strawberries and kiss and watch movies. Louis rests his head on Harry’s chest, and Harry swears his heart grows three sizes. Louis gets smaller, and sleepier, and Harry’s head spins at the utter normalcy of all of it. Harry thinks he could get used to this.

*  
3 months later. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Harry asks, tugging at the collar of his shirt. 

“No.” Louis says, truthfully. “But isn’t this what we want?”

Harry turns and is quick to rest a hand on Louis’ cheek. “Of course it is.” he assures, “It’s just a bit scary innit? Much scarier than meeting the parents that’s for sure.”

Louis shakes his head. “You have no idea.”

He steps back from Harry to check his watch, and sighs.

“Car should be here for you any minute. Mine comes in fifteen.”

“Will you be lonely when I’m gone, for those fifteen minutes?” Harry teases, kissing Louis on the nose.

“I don’t know how I’ll survive.” Louis says, clapping a hand over his heart. 

Harry kisses Louis’ hand before scooting out of his apartment under the cover of darkness. 

Over the past three months of their relationship, Louis and Harry’s favorite pastime, besides sucking face, has become their spy acts. They sneak from place to place, take three different cars to see each other, wear disguises, and most of all: Creeper photos.

Harry tumbles through the garden before crawling to the door, getting in the backseat, and leaving. Harry lets out a woosh of air as he buckles his seatbelt. Louis knew he was nervous about this, but not the extent of it. Harry felt like he was gonna throw up and die twice during this dinner. He knew it would happen eventually if his relationship with Louis was gonna continue, but meeting Niall and Zayn really isn’t Harry’s favorite pastime. Especially when he knows they were significantly less accepting about this than Liam was. When Louis came to his apartment with that blank expression on his face, Harry knew they were less than thrilled. And Harry hated that. They could hate him all they wanted (Which he hoped they didn’t), but he hated that they made Louis feel bad about being happy. Harry wishes everything wasn’t so complicated.

He also wished he had taken the later car, because now he’s stepping up the backstairs of Niall’s apartment, with no Liam (he bowed out of this lovely event), and no Louis. He adjusts his tie once more, before taking a deep breath and hitting the doorbell. Zayn opens the door and offers Harry a deadpanned expression, before stepping aside and allowing Harry in.  
Harry heads into the dining room, and he sees Niall, sitting as uncomfortable as Harry feels, at the table.  
‘How’ve you been Harry?” Zayn asks, making small talk. “Well; I imagine.”  
“Very well, thanks.” Harry says, truthfully. “And you?”  
“Fine.” he says.  
They sit in a jarring silence for fifteen minutes straight, until Louis knocks the door down.  
“Thank god.” Niall mumbles, adjusting his seat and Harry almost laughs at the uncomfortableness of the evening. But then of course, Louis comes in, absolutely beaming and ignoring the tension.  
“I was outside knocking for ten seconds before anyone opened the door, Z; you’re slipping.”  
“Fuck off.” Zayn says, rolling his eyes.  
Louis sheds his jacket and drops it in the middle of the floor before heading over to Harry and pressing a kiss to his cheek.  
“Ni, how was the golf tourney?”  
“Won.”  
“Good lad.”  
Louis sits himself down, and Harry is in awe. Up until now, Harry had thought he was the only one caught under the Louis spell, but now he sees that's not true. Louis has this aura that. He lit up the room just with himself in two seconds.  
Zayn picks up Louis’ jacket and hangs it up and resigns himself to the kitchen to get the food.  
Louis makes easy conversation and Harry doubts it is just because it’s with his bandmates. Harry wishes he was as much of a talker as Louis, but he thinks it works well with them. Louis talks and he listens.  
After about ten straight minutes of Louis talk, Harry leans over and grabs Louis’ hand under the table before whispering in his ear, “You’re going to run that mouth straight off, bug.”  
Louis blushes and bites down in his lip, slowing his conversation almost instantaneously.  
Zayn sticks his head out of the kitchen, brows furrowed.  
“Wait how did you do that?”  
“What do you mean?” Harry asks, and Zayn glances at Louis.  
“How did you turn him off? He just stopped talking. That’s never happened before.”  
“I’m capable of being quiet Zayn.”  
“False.” he says, before pointing to Harry. “You made him be quiet.”  
“If I didn’t, he was just going to keep going.”  
“I take it all back.” Zayn says, “Everything I’ve ever said is a lie. I like you. You can stay.”  
Harry chuckles. “Thanks Zayn.”  
From then on, although Zayn’s comment made Louis a little pouty, the tension is officially broken. He and Niall get on really well, and with every laugh he gets out of Niall, the weight in his stomach lessens. By the end of the night he even gets Zayn to crack a smile, and that is worth everything. He can see the light in Louis’ eyes changing to one of proudness. He really feels like he is coming through for Louis tonight. At the end of the night. Harry gives Niall a hug and shakes Zayn’s hand and gives Louis a kiss, before grabbing his coat. He’ll see Louis in about fifteen minutes because of the two cars but still it will be a lonely fifteen minutes.  
*  
The second Harry steps out the back he is bombarded with voices and lights and he is so taken aback he freezes up.  
“Harry is is true you and Louis have been hiding a secret affair?”  
“HARRY WHY ALL THE SECRETS?”  
“Where is Louis?”  
“Since when are you into men?”  
Harry’s entire life flashes before his eyes and he tries to get himself to move but he can’t. This is not good at all. Louis busts through the door as well, and grabs Harry, dragging him back inside the house.  
“Oh my god.” Louis breathes.  
“What’s going on?” Niall asks, eyes wide.  
“Our secret is out.” Harry says, “Everyone knows.”  
*  
The house is on full lockdown mode, no one going in or out, and Harry and Louis have been sitting in the basement in silence, both unsure where they stand at this point.  
“What happens now?” Louis asks, and Harry sighs.  
“I don’t know.” he says, truthfully. “We have a couple of options.”  
Louis lays his head down in Harry’s lap. “Tell me them.”  
“We could, move to a remote part of Iceland and buy a goat farm.”  
“Ignoring the consequences and becoming gay stereotypes. I like it.”  
“We can break up, lie, and and resume our lives as they were before.” Harry says, each word hurting him. Thankfully, Louis immediately replies with “No.”  
“Or we could go out there and face it.”  
Louis sits up and looks at Harry, with his nose wrinkled.  
“Can we choose the goat farm?” he asks, and Harry chuckles.  
“Sure Louis.”  
They sit in silence again and L0uis presses a kiss to Harry’s lips before, telling him he’s heading to the bathroom.  
“You stay right here.”  
Harry lets him leave and lays down on the ground.  
*  
It’s been about ten minutes, and Harry has just realized that it has been far too long for Louis to still be peeing. Harry heads upstairs to find Zayn and Niall sharing hushed conversation in the living room.  
“Have either of you seen Louis?” he asks, and the boys whip their heads around to face him.  
Niall looks up with a sullen expression and Zayn bites hard on his lip.  
“Harry…” Zayn says, slowly. “He went out there.”  
“What?” Harry asks, in shock, “Why?”  
Harry’s phone buzzes, and he pulls it out showing a text from Liam.  
Turn on channel 7. Now.  
“Turn on the TV.” Harry says, heading into the living room. Niall rushes to grab the remote and flips the channel which showcases Louis standing out on the stoop, hand raised to shield him from the camera flashes.  
“What's the big deal anyway?” Louis asks, straight to the camera. “Why is this part of my life something everyone wants to take a microscope to? I'm probably going to get in a lot of trouble for this but it's been too long of me pretending like this is okay, it's not okay. “ he says, adamantly. “

“Why should I be put into a box where I have to be what other people want me to be while putting my boyfriend through hell hiding our relationship? This is has been so hard and god! It's just.,, it's just not fair, y’know?” he says, and Harry's mouth falls open at his words. “That guy in there isn't just another pop star, and him and I aren't just another band nemesis duo. I love him!” 

Harry's eyes widen and his chest tightens at Louis’ words as he has never said that before.  
“So please, write your stories and ‘expose’ my forbidden gay scandal or whatever just let us stop being some fake Romeo and Juliet and let us be happy. Now I'm sure you've gotten enough footage so all of you can go.”

The cameras take a couple more pictures and Louis stands firm with his arms crossed until the channel changes and they all leave. 

Well. Don't think you'll have to pretend to be straight anymore. Also don't think we will play Coachella again but that's something for a different day. 

Harry smiles at Liam's text and sets his phone aside to gauge the reactions of Zayn and Niall, 

“Well. I guess that's that.” Zayn says. “Lou didn't beat around the bush.”

“Good for him.” Niall says, tossing back his drink. “He's spent too long being all boxed up and moody about this, it's not good for him.”

“Nobody puts baby in a corner.” Louis says, causing all of them to turn and look at him. Harry stands up immediately and before he can talk Louis squeezes his arm and leans to whisper in his ear, “Can we talk somewhere away from my mates?”

Harry nods, and Louis pulls him into the room adjoining and sighs, looking Harry right in the eyes. 

“Sorry.” Louis says, bashfully. “Didn't talk to you before I spouted off like that. Couldn't help it H.”

“You love me?” Harry asks, smugly, and Louis rolls his eyes. 

“Is that all you retained from my big groundbreaking speech?”

“Course not, bug. But that was the most important part. Only thing I didn't already know.” 

“So you're not mad I outed us as band nemeses turned star crossed lovers?

“How can I be mad when the boy that I love, loves me back?”

Louis grins and grabs Harry's collar, to pull him in for a kiss. 

Harry pulls back from him and gives Louis a lazy smile. “You really think we're star crossed lovers, Lou?” he asks, “some Romeo n Juliet type of story?”

Louis wrinkles his nose. “Star crossed yes, Romeo and Juliet, maybe. But much much better. Less death, no angry parents; and hotter sex.”

“I'm Juliet.” Harry says, and Louis gasps. 

“I am 100% Juliet. You're lovesick and handsome and I'm annoying and perky.” 

“Remind me again who came to whose balcony in the middle of the night?” Harry hums, and Louis leans his forehead onto Harry's chest in defeat.

“One romantic gesture and I'm resigned to Romeo.” Louis says flatly. Harry chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“I think that soliloquy of yours out there also sealed the deal.”

Louis makes a face, and Harry kisses him again.

“Do you at least think I'm as hunky as young Leo DiCaprio?”

“I think you're hunkier.”

“Wow. You must really love me.”

“I really do.”

*


End file.
